Ludicrous
by Sky-Oblivion
Summary: After standing up to Odin, Loki is banished from Asgard to a realm of which he has only ever heard of. He finds himself in a strange environment, trying his best to fit in with the help of Pepper Potts. Wanting to keep his true identity hidden whilst he passes his time on this realm - Tony Stark - one of Pepper's closest friends, sees that Loki is not your average teenaged boy.
1. Chapter 1

Thor and Sif were opposite each other, walking around, both prepared for the other to make the first move. Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun were at the side of the field they were sparring in, whilst Loki was sitting beneath a tree that shaded him from the sun, his knees propping up a thick, old, worn-out magic book that he was reading.

"Do not be so confident, Thor. I may be a woman but I am a warrior no less..."

Loki drowned out Sif's words as his eyes skimmed over the all too familiar, scribbled in black ink words that deceased mages had written. Of course, Loki knew all of the spells that the book in his lap held, but he had nothing better to do as he was dragged out to the field by Thor - his simple-minded, arrogant, senseless brother.

Sif made the first move as she charged at Thor, her spear by her side as she swung it around aiming to hit her opponent with it, but having it hit out of the way by Mjölnir - The hammer that was specifically made for Thor. Thor quickly spun Mjölnir in his hand and swung it at Sif, though she was quick to move and took her flexibility to her full advantage as she leaned back on her hands before springing up and kicking Thor square in the chest, making him fall backward across the field toward the tree Loki was sitting under.

Thor stopped skidding across the floor beside Loki, right at the front of the tree. He looked up at his brother as he rolled over getting up onto his knees, grinning, receiving only a bored look in response. As if the kick wasn't enough, Sif sent several daggers at Thor, secretly aiming at Loki, too. Some of the daggers skimmed Thor's head, quickly sinking themselves into the tree behind him, whereas the daggers aimed at Loki were caught between the long, slender, pale fingers on his right hand.

"It seems that even after a century she has not yet forgiven you over the hair incident, brother." Thor huffed.

"Apparently not." Loki replied, glancing at Thor before holding his hand out, offering the daggers to him as Sif charged at Thor.

"You should know by now that I am far above weapons as puny as daggers, Loki." Thor laughed and charged right back at Sif, calling Mjölnir to his hand. Loki watched them spar for a moment, before sending the daggers in Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun's direction as he heard them laughing at what Thor had just said to him. A satisfied smirk made its way to his face as he heard them yell and dive to the floor, into the dirt that littered the field under all of the grass.

As The Warriors Three were scrambling back to their feet, Loki returned to his book, re-reading words that he had already read over a thousand times before. They were engraved into his memory - so much so that he didn't even have to speak the magical words in order to activate the spells. Nowadays, he merely had to do a hand gesture and the spells would work, according to how he manipulated them. Any other mage in Asgard, or across all of the nine realms, would recite the words written and the spell would work according to the description beside it. Not for Loki. He had practiced and practiced his magic until the point of perfection. He had found ways around the spells so that he could work with them in whichever way he pleased. The cloning spell - for example - the description was that you could only ever make one clone at a time, yet Loki had surpassed this and had managed to make several. He had surpassed all of the spells, not that many knew of this. The ones that did know were opponents such as elves and dwarves of which had attacked him, later announced as deceased as Loki had killed them with one swift hand gesture.

Loki was powerful, yet all of Asgard underestimated his power, calling it feminine and un-manly compared to Thor and his brutal strength, along with his mighty hammer.

As Fandral removed the daggers in the tree and sat beside Loki, he didn't receive a glance, nor anything to acknowledge that he even knew Fandral was there. Taking this as a chance, Fandral peeked over Loki's shoulder to see what book he was reading, not the slightest bit surprised as he saw that it was a book of spells. Fandral assumed that Loki already knew most of these spells, as from what the God had seen of him in battle, he was quite gifted in the department of sorcery. He also knew that he had not seen the full potential of Loki's power and to be honest he did not _want _to see it, nor be on the receiving end of his abilities. He knew that Loki was dangerous if you messed with him. He knew that you didn't want to anger Loki, because if you did, you would be in line for his next mischievous prank or emotional outburst. Not that those happened very often - but if you had grew up with Thor, having Loki tag along with you to most places, you happen to get to know him a little bit.

"Get him, Sif!" Volstagg roared, earning Fandral to jump at his sudden outburst, then chuckle at how lost in thought he was.

"Fandral!" Hogun shouted over to Fandral, earning the mans attention. "Thor and Sif have nearly finished sparring. You and Volstagg are up next!"

Fandral grinned, calling back over to them "And we all know whose going to win out of the two of us!" of which earned a confident sounding laugh from Volstagg. Loki glanced at the exchange with bored eyes. He did not even want to come out to witness the bunch of gluttons and their maiden charge at each other, fighting like oaf's.

"Do stop staring, Fandral," Loki murmured when he felt Fandral's eyes on him once again. "It is rather irritating."

If that wasn't a warning, Fandral didn't know what was. He quickly shifted his gaze back to the fight before him, biting back all of the flirtatious words that threatened to leave his lips. If it were any other person of which was mildly attractive - of which Loki was, in his eyes - the words would have been spoken and he would be working his charms on whoever he was charming. Not towards Loki, though. Oh, no. Fandral had been there before and it was not, lets say, a very pleasant experience. He had experienced the sharp edge of Loki's words, the cold frontier that separated him from who Loki really was and he didn't want to go back there. Fandral had seen enough and had decided from then on he would stick to maidens - preferably ones that do not use magic - as he had also been threatened by The God of Mischief, Lies, Trickery and Fire.

As Thor threw Mjolnir at Sif, Sif found that she could not move as she usually would to gracefully dodge the hammer. Her legs felt as if they had turned to lead, leaving her frozen to the very spot she was standing in. She glanced up at the hammer heading across the field in her direction, not wanting to be hit by it. Making a frustrated noise, she tried to move her arms and upper body to at least duck the hammer that was going to hit her square in the chest, finding that she couldn't even do that. All she could do was watch as the hammer flew at her.

If Fandral had continued to watch Loki, then perhaps he may of seen the flick of Loki's wrist as he activated and manipulated a spell that would cause Sif's body to be paralyzed to that same spot she was still standing in. He had cast the spell without having to recite the words - like the imbeciles thought he had to. They didn't yet know that he could cast a spell without reciting the appropriate words, though Sif now had her suspicions. After all, she couldn't just suddenly become paralyzed after being fully able to move a few moments before. Especially since there was a certain God of Mischief sitting by the sidelines.

Just as the hammer was about to hit Sif, Loki waved his hand to the side, releasing the spell that he had cast on her. Sif found that she could now move her body again. Ignoring her suspicions, she attempted to dive out of the way of Mjölnir, but it was too late.

Thor's eyes widened as he saw that Sif was not moving out of the way. "Sif-!"

Sif let out a cry of pain as Mjölnir hit her square in the center of her chest, sending her flying across the field, being trapped under the mighty hammer as she was dragged across the ground, making dusty dirt fly into the dry air, leaving a trail as she dragged up ground as she went. She knew it was no use to try and get the hammer off of her, so she lay there in the blazing heat, the pressure of Mjölnir's power bearing down on her. She wheezed and clenched her teeth in agony at the feeling of immense pressure. If she were not a God, the mere force of the hammer would have killed her.

The Warriors Three and Thor watched wide eyed in shock for a moment, before they all sprung into action. Fandral scrambled up from his seat next to Loki and ran over to where Sif was lying. Volstagg and Hogun followed suit, whereas Thor called Mjölnir back to him as he ran over to Sif. Sif gasped for air as the pressure was removed off of her chest and she rolled over onto her knees, before being helped up by Fandral's hand.

"Sif, are you okay? I apologize, I knew not that Mjölnir would hit you." Thor looked guilty as he walked over to where Sif was standing, fuming, a look of hatred claiming her eyes as she stared over at Loki, who was sitting down in the same position as he had previously been in, having not moved, looking rather smug.

"Liesmith." She hissed, stalking over toward where Loki was seated. All eyes immediately went to Loki as realization kicked in that he had been behind the occurrence.

Loki glanced up at Sif, a look of innocence on his face as he masked himself feeling rather smug and the urge to laugh in the maidens face. "Yes?- Oh, my, Sif, you look rather filthy. Perhaps we should return back to the city so you can clean yourself."

Sif snarled as she grabbed Loki by the front of his dark brown, black tunic, dragging him up so that he was on his feet, pinned against the wall. Despite the height difference, Sif had no problem with this as she was strong and Loki was not that weighty. "You did that on purpose, Liesmith."

Loki looked down at her, tilting his head to the side slightly, replacing the look of sheer boredom on his face with fake interest and curiosity. "Did what, Sif?"

"You caused my temporary paralysis, of which led to embarrassment during battle!" Sif's sharp eyes never left Loki's gleaming green ones as her glare darkened, becoming more fierce. She had had enough of Loki's tricks, Loki's lies, the constant embarrassment that he caused to her.

"How was I the cause of your embarrassment when my lips did not utter a single word, let alone magic spell?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly, daring her to answer the question that she knew not the answer to.

Before she had time to respond, Fandral was by her side, prying off her deathly grip on Loki's tunic. Volstagg was behind her, gripping her shoulders, pulling her back away from Loki. Hogun stood by the side, watching Loki carefully, for any signs that he had, indeed, caused Sif's temporary paralysis whereas Thor was by Loki's side to steady him when Sif's fingers were pried off of his tunic, though it was most un-necessary.

"Brother," Thor asked, putting a hand on Loki's shoulder and looking into his eyes for any sign of a lie. "Did you do this?"

"Of course not, Thor," Loki's lie was instant, rolling off of his silver tongue naturally. "I was lost in my book of spells, and you know as well as I that sorcerers cannot perform spells without reciting the words necessary."

Thor looked at Loki for a while, before looking over his shoulder at Sif who was now calming down in the hold of both Volstagg and Fandral. "Aye... Sif, you know as well as every other Æsir that the sorcerers need to recite their words."

Sif looked at Thor in disbelief, of which quickly turned into rage. "You believe the _Liesmith, _the _trickster, _over your friend?" She yelled, expressing how hurt she was.

Thor looked at Sif, seeing the hurt that was plastered on her face, the depth of it showing in her eyes, before looking back at Loki. "Well, unless Loki has found some way to cast these spells without the use of words-" there was a gleam in Loki's eyes, of which did not go un-noticed by Thor as he was looking into them. He paused, before his eyes widened in shock and realization. "Brother- but... how did you manage to accomplish such a task?!"

All eyes went to Loki as he swatted away Thor's hand that was resting on his shoulder. He glanced at each of them, seeing the disbelief and shock in their eyes, though it was also apparent on their emotion-filled faces. Loki brushed himself down of the dirt that had fell on him from Sif, before replying smoothly. "You all underestimate me, so."

There was a short moment of awkward filled silence, before Volstagg piped up, announcing "Thor, we should test your brothers new found skill!"

Thor grinned. "Aye! Brother, you must spar with us!"

Loki sighed, placing a hand over his eyes as his head hung slightly. He massaged his forehead with his slender fingers for a moment, before giving in, knowing that Thor would not leave him be until he saw at least a glance of him fighting without reciting the magical words that would normally of been necessary. "Alright," he agreed, "But I only wish to fight Thor." He added, causing, if possible, Thor's grin to widen.

He assumed Sif had wanted to fight him after what he had just done to her and his assumptions were proved correct as she huffed in annoyance, walking over and sitting cross legged on the ground beside Loki's now forgotten book of spells. As Thor and Loki moved toward the middle of the field, standing opposite each other, a few feet apart, The Warriors Three took their positions beside Sif in order to watch the spar that was about to take place.

Thor's grin faded into his determined, battle-lust filled face as he looked at Loki, holding Mjölnir securely by his side. "Brother, you may have expanded your power but you should not think yourself more powerful than I."

Loki stood there, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave Thor a look that screamed '_are you really that stupid?' _- A look of which Thor has seen many times. He put his arms back down by his side, as he let out a fed-up breath. "You clumsily swing that hammer of yours around as your weapon, yet you do not even know the extent of your opponents powers. Please, brother, do not assume yourself more powerful than me."

Thor chuckled before stating "We shall see, Loki." and with that, he charged at Loki, raising Mjölnir in the air and swinging it at Loki, to find that Loki had used his magic to replace his empty hands with Sif's spear. Metal chimed as the two weapons hit each other and Loki used Thor's shock to his advantage as he kicked Thor's chest, making him stumble backward slightly.

Sif looked at her own hands, where her spear once was then back up at the fight furiously as she saw that Loki was now using her weapon as his own. She looked between the fight and her hand in bewilderment as for once she acknowledged and _appreciated _Loki's level of power. She knew that Loki could use magic - Norns, _everyone in Asgard _knew that he could use magic - but not to the extent of not needing to recite the necessary words.

The Warriors Three watched in amazement as Loki gracefully dodged Thor's attacks, using the spear to swat Mjölnir out of the way and shoot various elements of magic toward his brother. Thor continued attacking, not giving up, not backing down, not slowing his attacks as the battle went on. Loki continuously dodged and every now and then he made his own attacks using both his magic and the spear he had borrowed, without her consent, from Sif.

As Loki left a blind spot open, not really being specialized in one-on-one fights though he had practiced by sparring countless times with Thor, Thor quickly knocked the spear out of Loki's hands, sending it out of Loki's reach across the field, not too far from them. Loki sent a fake look of panic at Thor as he quickly swung Mjölnir at Loki's direction again.

Everyone with the exception of Loki thought that the hammer would hit him, send him flying - but when Thor brought his hammer down upon Loki and felt it slicing through the air, his eyes widened as the image of what he believed to be Loki flickered and faded from existence. Silence hung in the air as Thor stood up straight, looking around the field in confusion for any sign of his brother who had miraculously disappeared. Sif and The Warriors Three froze, wide-eyed, not quite believing what they had just witnessed. _How could they not of seen before just how powerful Loki was? __To of cast a spell of that level without even murmuring, without his lips even moving to recite the spells words?_

They all looked up at the tree that Sif and the Warriors Three were by when they heard Loki's cackling coming from it. Loki was standing on one of the branches of the tree, leaning against the bark of it. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he looked down at them, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "I told you that you all-"

Before Loki could continue, a look of sheer panic took over him as he saw the colours of the rainbow and felt his stomach drop from the nothingness that temporarily surrounded him.

Sif, The Warriors Three and Thor looked up at where Loki had been teleported by the bi-frost, confused and still in shock.

"I do not think that was meant to happen." Hogun stated, breaking the silence that had crept up on the group.

* * *

As Loki's feet touched solid ground again, after a second or two of being teleported by the bi frost; the momentary feeling of pure _nothingness _around him - he looked around to see that he had been teleported to the rainbow bridge itself. He looked over at the bi-frosts entrance, or exit, seeing Heimdall standing proudly, sword in hand as he removed it from the slot that allowed his gatekeeper powers to activate the transportation device.

Loki hesitated for a moment, a frown of confusion making its way to his face as he walked elegantly over toward the gatekeeper. "Heimdall," he said, pausing before asking "Why did you bring me here?"

Heimdall's all-seeing golden eyes never left Loki's as The God of Mischief approached him. "The All-Father wishes to see you." the deep, calm voice stated, only confusing Loki further.

The Trickster stopped and frowned, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Heimdall. "Surely he would have sent a messenger to tell me of this instead of teleporting me to a place where he is not?"

"I brought you here to warn you." he replied shortly, not explaining any further, making Loki question him again.

"About what, exactly?"

"Our King wishes to speak with you about your recently revealed set of advanced skills." The gatekeeper spoke in riddles, but Loki was quick to catch on. He was no fool - Loki was intelligent, a quick thinker, far more intelligent than people gave him credit for. Not that many gave him credit for his smart intellect anyway; attention rarely came to him, unless he made it happen. Mainly through mischievous pranks, though sometimes through the anger that rose every now and then.

Loki went to reply, but was cut short as that familiar feeling of nothingness and the familiar sight of the colours of the rainbow invaded his senses. Before he knew it, he was stood before the All-Father - his father - Odin. The King of Asgard, who sat proudly, fully armored on his throne, looked down at Loki. His one-eyed gaze met Loki's green eyes and Loki immediately knelt down on one knee, putting an arm across his chest, his hand balled into a fist that rested over where his heart is. He lowered his head so that his gaze was on the floor before him.

He hated doing this. He would never admit it out loud, he would never voice it, but he hated kneeling before a man who favored Thor - his brother, over himself. A man who had for countless centuries ignored Loki's achievements, Loki's accomplishments, what Loki was _proud _of; for what? To brush off all of what Loki has done to attempt to make him proud. To look over at Thor instead, praising Thor for pointless, little things such as hunting down a deer for fun? For entertainment? He never, _ever _showed Loki any love. Not anymore. Not since himself and Thor had grown from when they were children. They now appeared as what the mortals called 'teenagers' - the period of when one is growing from a child into a man or maiden.  
A man who hardly ever paid Loki any attention anymore, unless he wanted something, unless it was to bring the consequences upon Loki for one of his tricks. _Punishments. Pain. Suffering. _

Loki was kneeling before a man of which he desperately tried to gain his attention, his pride, his praise, his _love _and _acceptance - _but for what? For pointless attempts? To receive nothing but that same, disappointing look?

Loki hated it, yet he could not stop trying to gain what he wanted. To be seen as equal to Thor, by all of Asgard, by Thor's foolish friends, by all of the nine realms, by his mother - Frigga - but most of all, by Asgard's King. The All-Father. _His _father. Odin.

He wanted to find out, he _desperately _wanted to know why Odin would not see him as equal to Thor. Was it because he used magic over physical strength and weapons? Was it because Loki was dark haired whereas Thor's hair was golden and shining? Was it because Thor had a muscular form whereas Loki was thin, only toned with muscle unlike Thor - who had biceps as large as his head? Or perhaps the fact that Loki caused mischief, trouble and brought tricks upon people whereas Thor was the golden child, the obedient child, always obeying their father unless his own decisions clouded that loyalty?

He _didn't know, _yet he _desperately _wanted to know.

"Loki." Odin's voice caused Loki to snap out of his trail of thoughts. "You may look up."

Loki complied and raised his head, looking up at the All-Father. He remained silent, as did the rest of the hall, waiting upon what Odin would say next, though Loki already knew of it. His magic - Loki was here because of his magic - the fact that he is far stronger than what he made others believe.

"I expect you already know of why you are here, Loki," Odin started, not moving from his throne, his gaze still bearing down on Loki. Staying silent for a moment, he continued. "We did not know of how strong you _truly _were as you kept that hidden from the eyes of Asgard - and for that, it has been decided that you go in to the arena of trials to decide whether you are a threat to all of the nine realms."

Looking up at his father in disbelief, Odin continued. "We know not of your true potential, so you shall be put against many enemies until we have witnessed this potential of yours." The All-father paused, letting the words sink in before continuing, "Your trials shall begin in one hour. I expect to see you fully prepared within the arena. There shall be an audience of which will also witness the event, as well as myself and the Queen of Asgard."

"Odin, do not be so harsh, one hour? You cannot possibly think that our son will be _prepared _for this in-"

"Worry not, mother," Loki stood up, interrupting his mother as he looked up at his parents. "I shall be prepared and waiting."

Glancing between his mother and father - King and Queen - he gave them one last look through his sharp emerald green eyes before turning on his heel and leaving the throne room, servants and guards opening the massive double, norse-ruin engraved golden doors as he made his way toward them, exiting the massive hall, beginning to walk down the corridors of the palace and toward the direction of his chambers.

In one hours time, Loki was going to prove to Odin that magic can be as strong as weilding a mere weapon. He was going to prove that he could be equal to Thor, that he could make his father proud instead of disappointed. That yes, he could not spar using weapons very well, but he could, indeed, spar using magic. Loki was one of the best mages in all of Asgard and he was going to prove to the All father - Odin - _his_ father that he was underestimating him.

In one hours time, the younger Prince of Asgard was going to prove to all of the Æsir that they had been underestimating him greatly.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowds upon crowds of Gods poured into the arena, filling the available seats in order to witness this event that the All-father had called them all to. They were all talking amongst themselves, wondering what the outcome of this event would be. Was the youngest Prince of Asgard of which they have looked down upon for so long stronger than they had originally thought? Had he really new found abilities that none of them had heard of until earlier that day? Could he _really _be a potential threat to their entire realm? If so, how long had he been so for?

The God himself was standing in the shadows at the edge of the arena, watching as all of the citizens of Asgard poured in to witness how powerful he truly was. He did not wish for them to see such a thing as he preferred to shock others and prove them wrong. He preferred being mysterious rather than boisterous, self-centred and over-confident as he could relish in others' surprised, disbelieving expressions rather than the knowing, same un-surprised reaction.

It was not long before the hour had passed and the All-father appeared in the special seating area of which only the royal family could sit. The crowds fell silent as he walked out from behind the drapes of which concealed the rooms behind it, walking past his and the Queen of Asgards' thrones to the edge of the platform. His eyes fell briefly on Loki; before they moved on to skim the silent, awaiting crowds.

Loki walked out from the shadows toward the centre of the arena, using his magic to change from his armoured-down attire to his full armour, the magic creating a golden, sizzling glow around him as his armour faded onto him. Rather than using Sif's spear this time, he had his own. He held it firmly by his side as he walked proudly, elegantly, stopping once he reached the middle of the arena where the eyes of Asgard could see him best. If he were to show them all his true potential, if he were to show his father that he was as powerful as his clumsy hammer wielding brother then he had to be in view, in a place where he would have the most advantage.

There were a couple of minutes of pure silence; everyone waiting, watching, getting ready for the call that this little test of the All-father's were to begin. The silence was intense, full of angst and the air felt heavy and unbearable until he finally commanded "Begin" before sitting down in his throne next to his wife – the Queen – Frigga, his eye on Loki as one of the gates situated around the edge of the arena opened.

The God of Mischief's eyes instantly flickered to the gate that opened, his firm grip around the spear tightening as several hundred shadow creatures emerged, pouring out of the gate as they were granted to leave the cell they were situated in, in order to attack their prey. They moved quickly, smoothly as they ran along the ground, able to merge into it and re-appear, solidifying and un-solidifying as they wished to. Loki crouched, his stance becoming more defensive as they approached him. Foreseeing that he would need it, he sent magic along the spear in his hand quickly changing it so that it had a blade along the side as well as a point at the top of it before he swung it at the oncoming shadow creatures, splitting them in two and making them cry out as they faded away from existence. He continued swinging the spear at the shadow creatures, edging the blade of it with fire so that they would burn away from existence as he killed them with ease – this level of creature only being the very beginning of what was to come. The creatures surrounded him, some of them jumping up and attacking, others sinking into the floor and pouncing when they thought he least expected it. Using fire, as it was the best element to use against them and it was the element of which he could manipulate and control the most, he surrounded himself with a wall of it, the fire blazing and burning, dancing around the God as it burnt the last of the shadow creatures, of which screamed in agony as they hit the fire, burning out of existence, their ashes of which floated to the ground as they were incinerated.

As the last of the shadow creatures were defeated; incinerated and slain, another gate opened, bulky looking trolls clad in full armour with various weapons running out toward Loki, of which only had enough time to slay the last shadow creature before he had to roll out of the way, dodging an attack from one of the trolls. Rolling up onto one knee, he grit his teeth together and held out his spear, sending a blast of magic of which sent several of the trolls going in for an attack backward before he turned whilst standing, whipping the spear around, knocking more of the bulky trolls out of the way, his blade scraping against their armour and weapons, making a horrible scratchy, irritating clang noise of which swords made when hit together.

Unlike the shadow creatures, the trolls could not be defeated with one mere hit. They got back up and kept attacking Loki, of which dodged their attacks and used magic as well as the little one-on-one combat sparring he knew to his advantage. When the large group of trolls surrounded him, he replaced his true self with a clone, allowing them to slay it and make him appear wounded, dying as the clones eyes widened upon being stabbed, falling onto its knees, grasping at where the sword had been. The crowd cried out in a mixture of disbelief, outrage and for some, relief as the real Loki hid in the shadows.

Looking over at where the King and Queen were seated, Frigga looked completely heartbroken and upset, standing up, her hands over her mouth as she watched in disbelief whereas Odin's features were grim, not having changed much apart from that same look of disappointment that Loki could not mistake even from this far away. Snarling in anger, he used his magic to create several hundred flickering clones of himself of which he controlled to surround the trolls and kill each and every one of them. He felt that same inner-need for blood-shed grow more satisfied as several of his clones snapped the trolls' necks, whereas others jumped at the trolls, thrusting their spears through their chests as the blade punctured their hearts. The trolls fell to the ground, all of them dead having died in various different ways.

The crowd fell silent once again as the younger Prince stood slowly, all of the clones disappearing as the magic used to create them flowed through the air and back to his body. His head was hung low until he lifted it as the next gate opened, revealing the manic grin that was on his face; his green eyes shining and gleaming in excitement as more opponents ran at him of which he could _kill - _ _satisfying _that inner need for blood-shed and death. He had always had it – that craving for death, though he knew not why.

Loki laughed – slightly manically, letting out battle cries whenever he over-exerted himself in certain attacks, though they were not enough to stop him from fighting back the opponents. The crowd watched as Loki went to attack one of Niflheim's warriors but missed, his spear piercing the ground. They all thought that Loki was going to be injured, finally, but were proven wrong as Loki flexibly swung around the spear, kicking the warrior away so that it landed a fair distance away. Taking the spear out of the ground, he cast more clones of himself to kill off the other warriors whilst he jumped at his prey, raising the spear and stabbing the warrior - of which he had kicked - through the neck, blood spurting up onto the front of him as he stood up, putting a foot on the now dead warriors chest to make removing the spear easier.

Another gate opened as Niflheim's warriors fell, adding to all of the blood that covered the floor and adding to the amount of corpses that lay lifeless, dead, scattered around the arena. Giants from another realm ran out, earning Loki's full attention rather than only a bit of it as the others had. Already, schemes, plans and tricks played out in the Tricksters' mind as his new opponents approached.  
As each giant attacked him, he tricked each one into believing they had hit him whilst he teleported to the view of another one of the giants, also making them believe that they had hit and killed him, all the time bringing them all closer together and winding an invisible, un-breakable magical wire around them. When his plan mostly succeeded, he teleported a great distance away from the group of now trapped giants, watching as they struggled to free themselves, confused as to what was holding them all together.

The audience watched in amazement and bewilderment as the giants went up in flames, screaming in agony as they – much like the shadow creatures – were incinerated. They struggled against the invisible restraints, wanting and needing to get out of them as the fire burnt away at their bodies, their natural instincts being to escape the danger, the pain, though that is precisely what they could not do.

_Let us see what elements apart from fire you can use and manipulate, Loki._

More flames emerged onto the arena, but this time as an opponent to Loki rather than being his advantage. The flames were body shaped and much like fire, moving un-controllably, wildly, though they did their one simple command. _Attack The God of Mischief. _

Loki's eyes narrowed as they appeared, surrounding the area around himself in a protective layer of water of which calmed down the flames on the fire creatures, leaving Loki then to use another of his easily controlled elements – _ice. _It felt strangely natural; monstrous, powerful, _satisfying _yet natural. The Trickster turned, waving his hand of which did not hold the spear around with his body, a wall of ice following the gesture as it built up, surrounding him, instantly freezing the fire creatures as he fought against their flames in a fight for dominance – a fight to overpower the flames with the opposite of fire. Gritting his teeth together, he exhaled a deep, quick breath as he stumbled slightly, the amount of ice he had created, or so he thought that to be the reason, having depleted a great deal of his magic.

Despite this, Loki got up and continued fighting. Opponent after opponent, he carried on, wanting, _needing _to show that he was powerful. That he was more than capable of defeating opponents much like Thor was. That he was a worthy son, a worthy Prince, a worthy warrior. As he continued fighting, as gate after gate opened revealing more advanced creatures to slay and kill, Loki's breathing became more laboured; his movements becoming less sharp and less thoughtful, his magical abilities becoming less powerful due to the _lack_ of magic within his body - of which was because the God was unable to call it back to him, the creatures he was facing having constantly attacking him, leaving him no space, no chance _to _call it back to him.

Having heard of what was happening when they returned to central Asgard from the sparring/training fields, Thor, Lady Sif and The Warriors Three entered the Stadium, pushing past crowds of Gods in order to see what was happening. Thor would have gone up to the royal section of the audience, but this was much quicker and he did not wish to leave his friends. When Thor finally got to the front of the audience - most of the crowd having moved as he was the eldest Prince of their realm – his friends stood next to him, looking out across the arena to see Loki stumbling and staggering, fending off the creatures with difficulty. Thor's eyes widened as his little brother nearly got hit, and by the looks of it he had been hit quite a bit. Unlike his usual, groomed, well-kept attire, his tunic was ripped in various places, as was his cape. His armour was covered in scratches from weapons and from what Thor could see, and assume, Loki was covered in blood.

Gripping Mjolnir tighter in his strong, large hands, he jumped over the little stone barricades of which kept the younger Gods from falling onto the arena and getting harmed. He fell the distance from the audience onto the Arena floor, his cape fluttering up behind him as he did so, making quite a loud _thump_, a bit of dust lifting into the air as his heavy body landed in a crouch on the floor, instantly running toward where his little brother was getting attacked.

Hammer swinging at his side as he ran, he ignored the various cries of his name, telling him to stop as he threw Mjolnir to knock away an enemy of which Loki would not of been able to defend himself from. The creature flew back when the hammer connected with its body, the action catching Loki's attention as he looked over at Thor in disbelief and then in anger. The younger Prince went to shout something out of anger at Thor, but was attacked and knocked out of the way as he was left open, vulnerable to his opponents.

"Brother!" Thor cried out, calling Mjolnir back to him as he swung it, fending off many of the creatures as he made his way to where Loki had fallen, his little brother now staggering, attempting to stand up again but being un-able to properly as he was exhausted and injured. Whirling the hammer around at his side, Thor then held it up above his head, clouds forming above the stadium and lightning striking each and every opponent, instantly killing them.

Rushing over to Loki panicked, concerned and worried, the crowd began to see that no; this was not an illusion, this was not a part of Loki's performance, but this was genuine. This was real. Thor was really there and he had interrupted Loki's moment of showing to their realm that the younger Prince was not as weak as they all thought.

"Halt the gates and opponents!" Odin demanded, standing up upon seeing Thor interrupt the battle. Frigga also stood up, her hands over her mouth again as she watched her two sons bicker – her youngest son bloody, injured and exhausted whereas her oldest son was perfectly fine, but confused as Loki snarled, _furious _at the interruption.

"Why did you do it?!" Loki yelled, staggering up onto his feet and swaying a bit, leaning on his staff of which was stabbed into the floor for support. "Why did you have to interrupt as you always do!?" He yelled again, looking at Thor through blazing green eyes.

Thor's brows drew together in confusion. "Brother, you were being harmed! I could not have just stood by and watched as you were being beaten-"

"I could have done it!" Loki hissed in anger through laboured breathes, one hand gripping his spear, the other draped across his torso, his hand holding a wound of which was still bleeding, The God not having enough magic to even heal himself. "I could have proved you all wrong! That I am not the weak little Prince of which relies on his eldest glutton of a brother!"

Thor dropped his hammer at his side, dust rising as it hit the floor, beginning to walk over to the other Prince as his brotherly instincts kicked in, telling him to go over to Loki and pull him into a hug, to soothe and comfort him, to calm him down and reassure him that he was not weak nor little, but as he approached Loki he was denied this.

Loki seethed, bearing his teeth at Thor as he got closer to him, hissing in pure anger "_Do not come near me." _ The God of Thunder halted his steps as he looked down at Loki, a pained, hurt expression crossing his face as he was denied the fact that he wished to comfort his little brother. "You ruined it," Loki continued, his breathing still laboured, "I was going to prove to all of these imbeciles that I am worthy! That they have been underestimating me and you ruined it! Now-" he took a breath, pausing, closing his eyes as he leant over slightly, his body feeling extremely heavy. "- Now I am merely a Trickster again. A _liar... _a _**joke**_to the whole of this realm!"

"Brother..."

Green and blue eyes looked up at Odin as he approached the brothers – the Princes of Asgard – Thor sadly, whereas Loki was still seething in anger. Odin looked down at Loki as Loki was still leaning, relying on his spear in order to stay upright. Loki looked back up into Odin's eye, blazing fury meeting a cold, blue, un-accepting eye; un-appreciative, displeased and mortified, embarrassed in front of his whole realm, of which were all watching their royalty argue and fight.

Loki looked at his father, his anger subsiding as he looked into that blue eye. That same look – that same _disapproving _look! The Tricksters anger quickly returned, bubbling up to the surface, burning wildly, uncontrollably – _**just like fire.**_

"You..." Pulling himself up, using the spear as his main source of support, he stumbled slightly but the adrenaline and anger burning through his system allowed him to continue; his words full of venom and bitterness, sour and full of heartbreak – unforgiving. "No matter what I do; it will never be good enough for you, will it?"

When Odin didn't reply, Loki nodded, continuing. "No matter what I do you will never accept it, you will never praise me nor show me any love because I am not like your _golden_ son! I have tried and _tried_ and **TRIED** but I **cannot** be him! I am physically un-able to be him- _I cannot be Thor_! I am not Thor yet you cannot see this! You cannot accept that I am _different_ to him, that I have my own powers, my own strengths!"

"Do not bring Thor in to this, Loki; this has nothing to do with him."

"Doesn't it? Because as far as I am concerned _everything _is about Thor! No matter what I do I am always in the shadows whereas Thor is always in the light! Always praised, always loved, always cared for, always accepted! Thor-"

"-Brother-"

"-Thor, son, do not intervene."

"But father-"

Odin waved a hand, guards instantly going to where Thor was standing. One look from Odin and the guards grabbed Thor's arms, holding him securely as they began to drag him away. Of course, Thor kicked and fought back, all of the time shouting and yelling – protesting and looking at his little brother desperately, not knowing that he had felt the way he did. Not knowing that Loki had been through such pain.

"Return Thor back to his chambers immediately. This need not concern him." If the All-father had not approached Loki whilst Thor was being taken away, he would probably of seen the desperation in Thor's eyes – the sadness, the hurt in his eyes because he was being taken away from someone of which he cared for and wanted to comfort, to show them that he cared for them. To show his little brother that he was just as important as he was, that he was neither worthless nor weak.

Remaining silent but still seething, his jaw clenched, his grip on the spear tight enough to turn his knuckles white, Loki watched as his father approached him, stopping a couple of feet in front of the younger Prince. "Loki," The King started, holding Gungnir in his right hand, beginning to muster the energy needed to banish the young God.

"Odin, no-!"

Frigga's desperate calls were faint, un-heard by the two Gods as she was seated on the other side of the arena to her younger son and husband. All eyes in the arena were on Loki and Odin, watching, waiting to see what would happen to Loki after standing up and embarrassing the King of their realm through his anger and desperation to be accepted.

Collapsing on to his knees in exhaustion, Loki still relied on his spear for support as he looked up at the All-father, awaiting what would happen to him – his anger now diminished and morphed into that same sinking feeling that he felt every single time his father denied him love. Care. Praise.

"You have embarrassed yourself, as well as your whole family greatly due to your outburst," Odin took a step closer to Loki, outstretching Gungnir toward The God of Mischief. "Due to this outburst and your performance whilst fighting, I now declare you banished from Asgard for two mortal years as well as ridding of the worst of your magic. During your time away from this realm, I expect you to think over your actions."

Loki's breath hitched in his throat, a choked, pained sound escaping his lips as they parted, spiritual energy of his magic beginning to flow out of his mouth and toward Gungnir, swirling around the staff before fading into it. As the worst of his magic was taken away from him, he felt himself growing weaker and more exhausted, more pained and more beaten. Partially healed wounds re-opened, his tunic beginning to turn a darker brown than it already was due to being stained by the Princes' blood.  
Feeling his armour fading off of his form, he felt lighter yet no better than he previously had felt. The spear he was using to keep him upright disappeared, leaving Loki to collapse onto his hands and knees, breathing laboured once again. He didn't have time to think, to scheme, to attempt to escape this punishment as Odin spoke one word of which tore Loki away from the realm of Asgard.

"Heimdall."

Bright, aluminous rainbow colours invaded Loki's vision as he gasped, panicked and grasped for something, _anything _to stop him from going to the un-named realm of which he was being banished to. _Jotunheim? Alfheim? Nornheim? _The God's stomach dropped as that momentary feeling of nothingness hit him like a tidal wave, taking away his breath, his stomach being taken over by what the Midgardian's called 'butterflies'.

And then it was over.

Loki felt his feet hit solid ground, the God instantly stumbling as they did so. His breath returned as the oxygen went in through his mouth and to his lungs through gasps, laboured and pained breathing – one of the things of which were keeping him alive right now. The bright colours of the rainbow faded, revealing a dull, dark world of which was unique and un-familiar to him. Putting an arm across his torso to one of his worst wounds, he stumbled out of the narrow, filthy alley-way he was in, glancing around in shocked wonder, fright and bewilderment.  
He was immediately met by a swarm of what Loki identified as mortals, all of them not so much as glancing at him as they all pushed past him, some shoving him to the side, earning a hiss or strangled cry to escape Loki's lips as his wounds were harmed further.

Loki's vision began to turn hazy as the aftermath of being teleported by the bi-frost kicked in, the Trickster not having enough magical energy to heal himself. His wounds were causing him great pain and his body was beginning to shut down in order to heal. Feeling drowsy, heavy, dizzy and frightened by this new realm around him – not having much magic to even so much as protect himself even more – The God of Mischief's vision went black, his form stumbling back into the opening of the alley as he collapsed onto the floor, unwillingly going into a state of unconsciousness.

Perhaps if he had been more observant, perhaps if his vision or hearing had been clearer; he may have heard the clicks of high heeled shoes, the frantic questions, speaking, talking and a mortal woman's hands on his shoulders as she began to help the banished God. The younger Prince of Asgard. The broken Prince.


	3. Chapter 3

**I did not mention it before, and for that I am sorry, but a huge thank-you to 'Constance Bonacieux' for helping me out with advice for the first chapter! **

**Also, this is set when Tony and Pepper are teenagers. Seventeen, to be precise, so it's not modern. Not in the 2000's, probably in the 1970's sometime. So no modern technology, as of yet... until Tony creates something, that is. ;)**

**~Sky**

* * *

Sitting down in his throne, feeling rather exhausted due to the events that occurred earlier on that day. Letting out a breath, the King of Asgard attempted to think of other things rather than what he had done to Loki. Had he been too harsh with his punishment? Frigga had been rather angered and upset by his actions – as had Thor – but Loki had embarrassed their whole family, but most of all himself. His actions were not those of a Prince, nor of a future Kings, though Thor was most likely going to be the future King of Asgard. Loki had been brought up much better than that, or so he had thought.

The King's thoughts went back to how Thor struggled against the guards that 'escorted' him back to his chambers. How his son's usually excitement filled blue eyes were replaced by desperation and sadness. Would Thor attempt to visit Loki on Midgard? Would Thor attempt to bring the younger Prince back to their realm? Loki had to face the consequences for his actions, he had to realise that his actions were not how one should act if they were Prince. But Thor was stubborn, his mind often got clouded by his emotions and Odin knew that his son would most likely attempt to bring his little brother back.

"Send out a message that all form of transport to Midgard is now forbidden." Odin declared, earning several servants to scuttle from his side, bow before him and then head for the big golden, Norse ruin engraved doors in order to send out the All-father's commands.

* * *

The familiar sets of Thor, Lady Sif, The Warriors Three and Loki's boots echoed through the dark, empty halls of Asgard's palace as they navigated their way out of it in the middle of the night; the moonlight streaming in through pillars and the flaming lanterns situated a fair distance apart on the walls being their only source of light.  
As they walked down toward one of the many exits, their armour and weapons clinked with each step they took, despite Loki telling them to walk lighter on their feet if they were not to be found out. Loki – being the talented Trickster – was walking alongside them, his footsteps silent, his armour nor weapon making any noise as he walked elegantly and did not need to carry a weapon. One of the advantages of being a talented sorcerer – of which he often bragged about to his brother when he got the chance.

Thor – being the stubborn, over-excited, boisterous fool – had decided earlier on the day before that they were to go on a secret quest. No-one but themselves would know of it and they would depart in the middle of the night, only to return a couple of hours later and rest when they returned to their chambers as if they had never left the palace. Of course, this would not have been a problem for The Warriors Three, but Thor and Loki were royalty and Sif was still considered a maiden – both of which should not be caught doing such things as it would be considered an embarrassment and unlike their titles, their reputations.

**Quest:**

**- Escape the palace with Thor and Loki. **

**-Sneak out of the centre of Asgard in search for some isolated/unheard of taverns. **

**-Steal their ale and mead. **

**-Drink and get intoxicated.**

The Warriors Three, Sif and Thor were in a heated discussion, but Loki paid no attention as he walked alongside them. He had not wanted to come out on this 'quest' with them as he was not fond of getting intoxicated, but Thor had insisted and kept on bugging him whilst he was attempting to study more forms of magic and so he eventually – foolishly – agreed, just to get some peace and quiet in the old library of which he adored. Besides, he would never admit it aloud, but he was inwardly pleased upon being invited as it meant that he was not alone and that for once, he was thought about, though he was certain Sif, Hogun and Volstagg did not wish for him to be there. Fandral was quite fond of Loki, he found the trickster entertaining and not as bad as the others thought him to be, of which The God of Mischief silently appreciated.

Hopping over one of the stone walls they fell a short distance, landing on their feet and then made their way through bushes, the leaves rustling as they did so as they made their way out of the palace walls.  
A short while later – roughly an hour or so – they had walked a fair distance out of Asgard. Volstagg was complaining that the journey had made him hungry and that whichever tavern they were to stumble across better have a grand feast awaiting them; Fandral kept insisting that there would not be as they were not expected by any tavern they were to stumble across, Thor was laughing at the debate and joking with the two whereas Sif was adding her comments on the case here and there. Loki still remained silent and in thought- as was Hogun – though the warrior was also surveying their surroundings, keeping in check of where they were headed and how far away they were from the centre of Asgard.

The group were walking down a narrow dirt path of which was surrounded by a forest of trees when they came across an opening, of which the path led up, to a small, cosy-looking tavern. It was built with ancient bricks, had a straw roof and had a faint glow of light of which could be seen through the windows, indicating that it was open.

"We are here, friends!" Thor boomed, strolling ahead toward the ancient building, his friends and younger brother in tow. Like most taverns, the usual hum of conversation was heard as the group approached it, opening the wooden door and strolling in. Elves, dwarves and other races of which were allies with Asgard – now including those of Asgard themselves – were within the tavern, all drinking and laughing, jesting, gambling, carefree. Not a glance was thrown their way as they walked in, going toward the bar.

As always, Thor, Sif and The Warriors Three were to 'distract' the troll at the bar whilst Loki was to steal the ale and mead for them all. Volstagg, always the one to think of his belly, was hassling the troll about the fact that there was not a feast. The troll was saying how they never had feasts within his tavern unless there was a special event, ceremony or celebration within Asgard.  
It was not long before Loki had successfully gotten a hold of the ale and mead, using his magic so that he was seen by absolutely no-one whilst stealing said ale and mead. After all, this was before anybody knew of his magic to be so great and he was merely known as the Trickster – the youngest Prince - of which was attempting to learn such maidenly powers.

Walking away from the tavern, Thor held two barrels on each of his shoulders of which were supported by his hands. Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun were the same as Thor – barrels on each shoulder; whereas Loki held one over his right shoulder, as did Sif.  
Loki, of course, had found this rather irritating as his older brother did not think him strong enough to carry more than one barrel, but he had kept quiet – as per usual – and went along with it, not wanting to ruin his brothers 'quest' with his friends.

Once they had found a clearing of which they could all sit in, Loki lit a small fire of which they could all sit around. They started drinking and talking and sooner than later Loki was relaxed enough to join in with them and jest.  
As they had planned, they had gotten rather intoxicated. It did not take the group long to go through the barrels of ale and mead and so, with their quest mostly completed, they began to walk back toward the centre of Asgard – though not without input from Asgard's trickster.

"Brother, what do you say to having one last jest?" The God of Mischief slurred, stumbling slightly, his arm around Thor's broad torso as his brother's big arm was around his shoulder in order to keep them both steady and upright.

"A last jest? Aye! That sounds fun, brother!" Thor boisterously exclaimed, his words slightly slurred as Loki's were. The two Princes were at the back of the group; Fandral, Volstagg, Sif and Hogun having walked on ahead as Hogun claimed to know the way back.

"Friends!" They all turned to look at The God of Thunder, awaiting what he was to say. "Loki has one last jest for us!" He exclaimed, the attention then turning to the younger Prince as Thor said so.

A drunken, mischievous smirk pulled at Loki's lips as he glanced between Thor and his friends. "If I am remembering correctly – which I most likely am, despite being intoxicated – there are several chicken hutches situated within the market of central Asgard. No?"

After a moment of blank, unresponsive, confused stares Volstagg piped up. "There are, indeed! But what have chickens got to do with a jest? They are merely on the market to be sold for sustenance."

The mischievous smirk on Loki's lips grew, his mischief – despite being drunk – never fading. "We are to set them free and let them cause chaos!" The trickster exclaimed.

"All of them?"

"No. Merely one of them," Loki rolled his eyes, sighing, slightly irritably. "Yes, all of them, you imbecile! Otherwise the jest would not work."

Fandral grinned, slightly flirtatiously toward Loki. "Let's go, then, my dark haired, fair skinned Prince." Holding a hand out in the dark haired God's direction, Loki merely snorted and walked past him in the direction of central Asgard, of which made Thor and Volstagg laugh.

Turning when the group did not follow him, Loki tilted his head slightly, his brows drawing together in confusion. "Are you not coming along?" he asked, swaying slightly due to the ale and mead running through his system.  
Leaves rustling as a sudden wind blew; Loki held his arms up in front of his face, startled by the sudden gust of chilling wind. He suddenly felt sober and more alert of his surroundings. Hesitantly taking his arms away from in front of his face, his confusion grew when he found himself alone in the middle of the forest where the group previously was. Thor, Sif nor the Warriors Three were in sight. Turning around and looking as he did so, his heart beating in his chest; confused, worried and scared, Loki looked around in search for his brother and his friends, only to find that he couldn't. They were gone. They had left him. Something as simple as a gust of wind had blew them away, leaving Loki all alone in the darkness of the forest, vulnerable to predators that may be lurking in the shadows.

Loki was alone.

**_Alone. _**

Suddenly bolting upright, Loki's eyes instantly opened, his sharp green eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. A short, strangled cry formed in his throat and escaped his lips as his injuries made themselves apparent, the pain feeling even greater now that he was completely conscious and alert. Screwing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth together in pain, exhaling deeply, his brows furrowed, Loki began to channel what little magic he had left around his body and toward the worst of his injuries. The familiar warmth of healing magic ran through his veins and toward the injuries as he controlled it to do so, the soothing heat beginning to sew the skin back together in the deepest of his cuts, the broken bones cracking back into place and joining together, his bruises and smaller cuts dissolving, leaving no trace whatsoever that he was ever injured or harmed.

Letting out another breath, he allowed his body to relax. The tricksters jaw un-clenched, his silver-tongue going once around his mouth in an attempt to hydrate his dry mouth. His brows went backed to their usual position on his brows and he opened his eyes, allowing himself to look around the un-familiar room of which he had awakened in properly, his mind now cleared of physical pain and able to function properly.

The room was not too big yet not too small, the walls were smooth and white, making the room seem bigger and more welcoming than it actually was. There were glass panels situated in squares here and there on the ceiling, further glass inside of them, though Loki did not know what they were. One of the walls was made of glass itself, showing the view from the room he was in as well as allowing light to stream in through it, making the room well-lighted and bright as opposed to dull and dark. _An ocean, _Loki thought as his eyes travelled from the window, beginning to observe what was around him.  
A well-constructed bedside table made out of oak sat next to the bed of which he was sitting on, a weird device with luminous red numbers showing on the face of it. Next to it sat another object made out of glass, of which held water, making Loki's instincts immediately want to reach out and gulp down the liquid in order to hydrate his dehydrated system. But Loki did not know where he was, who had brought him here or even if he was safe or in danger; so he reached out, picking up the container, holding it under his nose for a moment. Sniffing the liquid he confirmed that it held no poison or drug and continued to bring the edge of it to his lips, beginning to drink the water, quickly finishing it and placing it back where it had previously been.

Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth he wiped away the remainder of water off of his lips and glanced down at what he was now feeling. His body was lined with a slick layer of sweat – probably from the night tremor he had, or perhaps his injuries – the soft bed covers sticking to his thin form. Grasping at the edge of them, he pulled the soft covers off of him, shivering as his skin was revealed to the cold air, his body no longer heated by the blankets.  
He was wearing nothing but white boxer shorts – of which Loki saw as _odd _because they _most definitely did not _have those on Asgard. The lack of clothes revealed the slightly bloodied bandages that were wrapped around his form, another indication that someone had helped him, of which inferred that whoever had taken him to this room had good intentions. The fact that they were only slightly bloodied showed him that whoever it was who had helped him had been checking in on him, re-dressing the bandages and tending to his injuries as the injuries he had received – from what he remembered - would not have left that little blood.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood up, slightly un-easy and blinked away the wave of dizziness that threatened to take over his senses. Looking back over the room he remembered his dream, of which led him to realising how lonely he really was now. How alone he was, in this realm of which he was almost positive is Midgard, the realm that he woke up in – the realm that he was banished to.

_Banished. _

Walking over to the door on the far side of the room, he grasped the golden – _fake gold - _door handle in his slender, pale fingers and turned the handle, opening the door to reveal a corridor of which led to the rest of the house. It was not very long; there were two doors on the right and three doors on the left. The corridor led out into a wide, open room and opposite of the small corridor Loki was currently standing in was another corridor, only longer. As Loki walked warily out to the entrance of the small corridor he became aware of a noise coming from a staircase of which led downstairs. To where, he knew not. Music. _Terrible music, at that, _he thought bitterly. It must be playing quite loud seeing as the door at the bottom of the staircase was closed yet he could hear it clearly. Loud, boisterous, aggressive, yet it held some form of tune and melody. They did not have this type of music on Asgard – it was different, unique, and the more Loki listened to it he found himself liking it.

Scanning his eyes across the room he began to notice that most things here, he had not seen before. A black box in the corner of the room, sat on a table of which appeared to be made of wood. A similar table sat in the middle of the black box and a cushioned chair, appearing to be made for several people. There were two other cushioned chairs – for one – either side of the cushioned chair made for several, diagonally situated. Much like the one in the room he awoke in, there was a glass wall behind the set of chairs and the black box, of which looked out to a bit of cliff before his eyes met the ocean again.  
Looking past the seating area Loki saw something that somewhat resembled an Asgardian kitchen, though – like every other thing he had seen so far – there were things of which he did not recognise. Things of which he had never even heard of before, let alone seen with his own two eyes.

After looking around, confused by all of these newfound objects and furniture – rooms and sounds and scenery of which was all unfamiliar to him, he took to finding out who had taken him in. Who had helped him? Why had they helped him? He was certain that if he went over to where the unique music was coming from that he would get answers, but not without a price. They would most likely wish to know of him – what had happened to him, why he had been so injured, _who he was. _

As he was walking toward the staircase, obviously not as alert as he thought, he was stopped by a female voice. A familiar voice. _The one you heard before you fell unconscious._

"You shouldn't be out of bed yet." Loki turned slightly, looking over his shoulder to see a young maiden wearing an unfamiliar, yet strangely formal attire. Her straight sunlight coloured hair was held up by what appeared to be a band and two pins.

* * *

Virginia 'Pepper' Potts stood a couple of feet away from the stairs that led to Tony Stark – her best-friend and boss' workshop. Yesterday the two had been walking home from school- (Tony refused to drive what his father had 'bought' him as he needed to take it apart, adapt it and then put it all back together again. Why he had to do that, Pepper would never know.) -When Tony accidently bumped into someone. Tony – being the arrogant, egotistic _child _he was went to insult said person instead of apologising, only to stop in mid-breath upon seeing an extremely injured and bloodied tall boy, of which could not have been any older than themselves.  
His whole front was covered in blood and the skin of which was showing – his face, hands, the skin revealed by various rips in his... tunic? – were smothered in cuts, scrapes and bruises. The tunic, or what was left of it, was drenched in blood, making it appear darker than what it originally was. The boy himself appeared in great pain and on the verge of collapsing when they had seen him, of which he did – falling back into the alleyway behind him as they approached him in order to help.  
Pepper had immediately rushed forward, shocked beyond belief upon seeing someone so _hurt, _so _injured _and _beaten_, her natural motherly instincts – despite being only seventeen years old, taking over. Just like when she had found Tony, when they had first met.

She had begun shouting/screaming orders in desperation to keep this boy alive, to get him back to Tony's. (As it was closest and provided the best medical supplies required.)  
They eventually did, setting him down on the bed in one of the spare rooms, the sheets underneath him instantly being stained in thick, red liquid from his injuries. For once, Tony wasn't complaining, and Pepper could tell he was as determined to save this boy as she was.  
And so they removed his strange clothing, trying not to let their emotions and thoughts get the better of them as they saw each newly revealed injury, beginning to clean the wounds and bandage them up.

So when Pepper Potts saw said boy standing on his own two feet, walking toward Tony's workshop, she was shocked to say the least. Too shocked, in fact, that the only sentence she could muster was "You shouldn't be out of bed yet." – The disbelief, fright – for his health – and pure, dare she say it again, _shock _evident in her voice.

When the boy turned slightly and looked at her, appearing to observe her, the young woman's eyes widened and she dropped her clipboard, both hands going up to cover her mouth, her breath hitching in her throat. He was no longer injured. _He was no longer injured! _From what she could see, all of his wounds had healed. Of course, there were still bandages on his torso, legs, arms and chest but just by how elegantly and firmly he was standing told her that he was no longer in pain.

The boy's brows drew together in a frown and he tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes a bit, questionably, not speaking at all. But Pepper didn't notice much more as she said "excuse me" quickly before rushing past him, punching in the code on Tony's security to his lab, quickly entering and going over toward the young genius.

"Tony, turn that music off! I have no idea what you put in that medicine but whatever it was it works miracles. _Miracles!" _

* * *

Loki stood there, even more confused than he had previously been when the mortal maiden had rushed past him, into the room of which _he _wished to enter, speaking quickly to another mortal. Edging closer to the door, of which was closing, he held a hand to it just as it was about to close to prevent it from doing so. Leaning his head slightly to the gap in the door, he began to listen to the two mortals' conversations.

"-You didn't have to turn off my music-"

"Just _listen to me, Tony! _He's awake. Your medicine – whatever you put into it – it worked. Miracles. I don't know how you did it, but it's worked and-"

**_They must be speaking of the magic I healed myself with, thinking it were their own healing devices of which brought me back to full health. _**

"-Whoa, hey, Dracula's awake? Can I see him?"

**_Dracula? _**

"No, he needs-"

"Wait, what do you mean my medicine worked? Of course it worked. I wouldn't have it if it didn't work-"

**_Egotistic, impatient, over-confident. _**

"-You don't understand! His injuries, all of them – from what I can see – _all of them _have healed-!"

"-Hey, do you know who he is yet? I'm kind of interested, his clothing and-"

"-No, but I think your music woke him up. You shouldn't have it so loud-"

"-Yeah, yeah, it'll damage my ears and all that, I know **_mom-" _**

Sighing, bored by their rather tedious and repetitive bickering, Loki removed his hand from the door and began to walk further into the house he was in. His, dare he admit it – _saviours_ – were, from what he saw, relatively kind. They posed as no threat, so he assumed he was allowed to venture and explore the building of which he awoke in.  
It was mainly all the same to him – unique, un-familiar and intriguing. Though what interested and caught his attention the most was a balcony. A small balcony of which had several chairs on, looking out to the ocean – much like the room he awoke in and that seating area. Unlike when he had last looked out of the windows, though, the sun was setting, creating a warm orange and slightly red colour in the distance, just above the ocean. Warily opening the door that led outside, he took in a breath of fresh, salty air, relishing in the way it travelled freely through his nostrils and into his lungs. It was a change from the stuffy air inside – refreshing.

Sitting down on one of the seats, he relaxed into it, enjoying the view before him. He was lost in thought – about what had happened before he was teleported to this realm. Positive in it being Midgard, he still wanted to check. He still wanted to make sure it was. Especially since he was going to be spending two years here.

_Two years on this unfamiliar, strange, extremely unique and confusing realm. _

Lost in thought about what he should do next, he didn't notice the familiar clicks of high heels as they approached, staying inside of the house and at a distance as the owner of them watched the boy herself and her best friend had saved.  
He looked sad, confused, _lost, _and through the depths of those un-focused emerald green eyes of his, she saw what Tony had once been before she came along. _A broken child. _  
Deciding it best to leave him alone for a while, she went off in the direction of the kitchen, thinking that it was just about time to start making dinner.

After all, she was going to be speaking to The God of Lies about who he was, and she didn't even know it yet. She probably never will.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, I managed to get the EXACT amount of words in chapter 3 as I did in chapter 1 – without even trying – of which I find kind of amazing. **

**Also, seeing as this is set in the 1980's, Tony has no goatee. –GASP- Not yet, anyway. ;D**

**~Sky**

* * *

The sun had set within the forty five minutes that had passed since Pepper left Loki to dwell in his own thoughts. Not that Tony knew. The young genius was busy in his workshop, his music blasting out once again as he worked on putting back the car he dismantled. The car that his dad had kindly 'bought' him – and by that, Tony meant that he had memorized his father's bank details, taken out some money and bought the car himself. He knew he would get into trouble for it sooner or later, but Howard was hardly ever at the house he owned in L.A (as he was always out working – creating new things for the family business) so it didn't really matter. Not to Tony, anyway; he had his ways of dealing with his dad's shouting, in fact, he was used to it. Especially when Howard had had a few drinks.

Closing the bonnet of the car, Tony grabbed a cloth/rag to wipe his oily hands on as he headed out of his lab, following the smell of delicious food to his newly refurbished kitchen (he had destroyed the last one, but that story can be told another time.) – Of which meant one thing and one thing only. Pepper was cooking for him again.

Walking into the kitchen, he smiled at Pepper, stuffing the rag into the back pocket of his ripped jeans so that a bit of the rag hung out. "Hey Pepps, what's for dinner? Smells good whatever it is," and then he glanced around, seeing that they were alone. "Where's the damsel in distress? Asleep again? I thought you said he had healed?"

Pepper put three plates on the kitchen counter before flicking the oven off, turning to face Tony. "He's on the balcony, I want you to tell him dinner's ready whilst I'm dishing up." She smiled a bit upon seeing Tony out of his workshop willingly, rather than being dragged out as per usual. _He must be hungry, _she thought dryly.

"The balcony? Okay. He won't try and attack me, will he?" He waved a hand as a gesture. "Because, you know, he had quite bad injuries and all that. Wouldn't want him to think I'm going to attack him. Especially not if he's one of those crazy homeless guys."

Rolling her eyes, she interrupted before he could continue on one of his pointless rambles. "I don't know, Tony, I haven't spoken to him yet-"

"-You don't _know? _Pepper, we could be housing a worldwide criminal here and you _don't know _because in the past, what-" he looked over his shoulder at the clock and quickly calculated how long it had been since Pepper had interrupted him, saying how his medicine worked miracles "-forty five minutes-"

"-_Fifty-"_

"-You haven't spoken to him?" He smiled playfully at her when she gave him one of her stern looks, letting her know he was only joking around.

Sighing, Pepper rolled her eyes and shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "Go and tell him dinners ready." She said, turning back around and crouching in front of the oven, opening it and getting out their meal, a thick oven glove on one of her hands. As Tony was walking out, toward the balcony, he heard her call to him "And wash your hands before you come back!"

Rolling his eyes and waving a hand in her direction dismissively, he walked up to the door that led to the balcony, reaching a hand out toward the door handle before pausing, looking out of the window beside it, squinting slightly in the semi-darkness in order to get a better look at their 'guest'. There wasn't much natural light outside seeing as the sun had set, but from what Tony could see from the light streaming out of the house, their 'guest' was as he had been – minus the injuries – when he was unconscious and in bed.  
Pale, tall, dark-haired, thin – though now he appeared much healthier – slightly toned with muscle and _damn _he had good legs. Long, thin, but not _too _thin and-

Clearing his throat, pushing all thoughts of the taller boys legs away; Tony opened the door and casually leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dinner's ready." He stated, watching as the boy snapped out of his thoughts, his green eyes turning from un-focussed to sharp in a matter of seconds, looking over at him, observing him.

The boy looked Tony up and down, of which only – if possible – inflated the young genius' ego. A small, lazy smirk spread across his lips and he raised an amused eyebrow when the boy's eyebrows drew into a slight frown, almost as if he hadn't heard what Tony had said.

"Excuse me?" A smooth, calm voice left the dark-haired boy's lips, making Tony's breath hitch in his throat slightly because _Jesus, _he had never heard such a voice. So... _perfect. _So smooth, calming and... enchanting.

Raising a lazily closed fist in front of his mouth, the genius cleared his throat again. "Dinner's ready," then he paused, his eyes trailing over Loki's half naked, bandaged body. "You may want to put some clothes on, though. Aren't you cold? Follow me – I'll get you something to wear." Because Tony may not be one for emotions, but he was not heartless and he knew that if he was sitting out there in a pair of boxers and some bandages, he'd be fucking freezing.

As Tony walked off toward a staircase that led upstairs, Loki hesitated before getting up and following the boy whose voice he recognized as the mortal that maiden was speaking to earlier. The trickster had overhead 'Pepper' and 'Tony' in their earlier bickering, but he knew not if those were their actual names or merely nicknames - or something else entirely. Though he was certain those were the two mortals names. What else would they possibly be?

Loki followed the mortal up the stairs, following warily behind the shorter male into a large room. Much like the room he woke up in, it was white and there was a glass wall, of which overlooked the sea. The bed was rather large and looked extremely comfy and the room itself looked as if it was rarely used, apart from the odd times here and there.  
Glancing at the mortal again, the God noted how his clothes were quite old and worn, extremely different – like the female mortals' – to the clothing on Asgard, though it was probably normal attire for those on Midgard. He had short, brunette hair of which stuck up toward the front. Much like his hair, his eyes were a pleasant dark brown, of which Loki denied that he liked. A lot.  
The mortal only came up to his nose height wise, and despite the loose fitting clothing he wore Loki could still tell that – much like himself – he was toned with muscle, though more so than The Trickster.

"Pick out your own clothes from there," The mortal started, snapping Loki from his observations as he pointed toward a set of doors. "Take whatever fits. The trousers might be a little short on you, though." He added, and Loki watched from the doorway as he walked over to a small area, turning a tap and began washing the black marks off of his hands.  
Walking warily over to the wardrobe, glancing at the other male every now and then, Loki opened the doors and began to look through the clothes that were hung up. The t-shirts mainly consisted of worn out band tees – not that the God knew what they were – so after shifting through a couple of them, he gave up and picked a random one out, examining it for a moment before deciding it would do fine. He did the same for the trousers, finding a pair that looked as if they would actually fit his long legs.  
Loki tugged at the slightly bloodied bandages that were still wrapped around his body, pulling them off from around his torso, chest, arms and one from around his right thigh. There were plasters and cotton wool that had been stuck down by sellotape on his arms, neck, cheek and shins, so he pulled them off too, wincing slightly at the ones that pulled at his skin, the feeling unfamiliar to the God.

Watching from the mirror in front of him as his guest looked at one of his many band tees before putting it on, looking rather confused for a split second; Tony's mind began to wonder. He wasn't an idiot; no-one – _no-one _– would have been able to heal from those kind of wounds in such a short amount of time. Now, he wasn't educated in medical studies or health or anything like that, but if Tony Stark was not one thing, it was stupid. Or ugly. No, he definitely wasn't ugly, either.  
He knew what he had done last night, what he had put in the medicines, what he had done to them and what he had given the handsome stranger in his attempts to save his life... but he also knew that that there was something different about the other male, he just didn't know what yet. Seeing as he didn't pose as a threat, yet, Tony thought he'd just sit back and watch. Very carefully. After all, who wouldn't want to watch someone as attractive as... well, _him? _Things could get quite interesting.

"So, what's your name?" Tony asked, breaking the silence that had fell upon the two whilst the other was getting some clothes. "I'm-"

"Tony." That smooth voice replied as the owner of it stepped into the loose fitting jeans, that Tony realised as a pair that was too big for him. They seemed to fit the other male perfectly.

"What?" He asked, turning around so that he could see his guest properly. "Your name's Tony, too?"

"No."

"Oh."

"It is yours, though... correct?"

Tony blinked a couple of times, trying to get his thoughts to process correctly, before he realised why the other had said his name. "Oh! Yeah," he waved a hand, as he usually did as a carefree gesture. "That's my name. Tony Stark, the one and only." He flashed one of his trademark grins, receiving only a curious glance from those sharp green eyes. "So, tall, dark and handsome, what's your name?" Relishing in the flicker of surprise that crossed the taller male's face, Tony crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom.

Composing himself from the unexpected compliment, which hardly ever happened to him, Loki replied as bluntly as he could, buttoning up the trousers he had previously pulled on. "Loki." Said trousers seemed to fit quite nicely, slim, yet not too skinny. They weren't too long, nor too short, and they were black which meant they would go with most outfits.  
As the mortal let out a breathy laugh from his nose, Loki looked over at him, slightly irritated. _What was so amusing? _

_What kind of name was' __**Loki'?**_Tony bit down and chewed on the inside of his lip, desperately trying not to burst out laughing. Yup, there was _definitely _something different about the guy – about Loki. Whatever family he was from must've been crazy or incredibly old fashioned to of named their kid 'Loki'.  
When he saw that Loki looked slightly irritated, Tony quietened down, pushing back all previous funny thoughts and puns that came to his mind naturally, as well as nicknames. Perhaps he shouldn't piss the guy off until he knew him a bit better.

"Where am I?"

The question caught Tony off guard, the question '_how the hell doesn't this guy know where he is?' _before he remembered that he wasn't exactly with it when they found him, all bloody, injured and such. _How __**did **__that happen? What the hell happened to him? _

"America. L.A to be precise. You know, Los Angeles." Pushing himself off of the doorframe, Tony walked past Loki and toward the door that led back downstairs. "You coming? Dinner's ready, so-"

"Can I see a map?" Loki asked, once again catching the shorter man off guard. _Why the hell did he want a map? _

"Erm, sure. I think I have one somewhere..." His voice trailed off as he gave the other male an odd look, standing in the doorway of the room, waiting for Loki to follow him. "May I ask why?"

"You just did."

Tony rolled his eyes, already liking the guy, despite foreseeing that he's probably an irritating little prick. Like himself, then. "Just follow me, Loki-pokey."  
Walking down the stairs and through the house toward the kitchen, God in tow, he could literally _feel _the confusion drifting off of the taller male behind him.

"What...?"

Imitating what Tony thought was the English accent coming out of Loki's mouth, he dramatically rolled his hand out at his side, saying rather poshly "I am Loki-pokey..."

It was at that moment Pepper Potts herself walked out of the kitchen, wondering where they both were as they had taken longer than necessary. "You aren't insulting him already, are you?" She asked, frowning slightly, glancing between the two.

"Why would I do such a thing?"

Rolling her eyes at his terrible attempt to look innocent, she looked at the taller male. "I hope you like lasagne," she smiled sheepishly, yet friendly. Holding out her hand for a handshake, she went to formally introduce herself, making Tony roll _his _eyes. "I'm-"

"Pepper."

Looking a bit confused in Tony's direction, Tony supplied her a short Tony Stark-like explanation. "He did the same for me. His name isn't Pepper, or Tony, it's Loki."  
Sitting down at the kitchen counter stools, as he didn't have a dining table or anything, he grabbed his knife and fork, gesturing for Loki to sit beside him. The God followed suite, sitting on the stool beside Tony's, picking up his own knife and fork, looking down at the food that was placed in front of him. He hadn't noticed how hungry he was until his stomach rumbled upon the scent of the cooked meal drifting to his nostrils.

"Well, tuck in."

Loki didn't have to be told twice. He instantly 'tucked in', so to say, eating the cheesy, delicious meal. It didn't take long for the questions to spring up, both from Tony and Pepper, as Loki expected.

The God of Lies was prepared, his silver tongue having had many years of practice.

"So, Loki..." Pepper started, earning a glance from said male. "Are you from England? You have the accent."

"Yes," Loki went along with it, not actually knowing where 'England' was, as it was not any of the nine realms, so he was assuming it was a place on the realm they were currently on. Both sets of eyes glanced at The God, at each other, and then back at their meals, until the next question was voiced.

"Why are you in L.A, then? Family business or something? Didn't like it in England?"

Glancing at Tony, he knew that eye contact was something to make lies more believable. Not that he needed to use it, being a talented liar. "Family business would be correct... my, ah, father wished to move here. He would get more income for us that way."

"So how'd you get your injuries? They were pretty, well, bad." The genius shot back, forever the one to have quick comebacks and questions.

Loki took the question as an opportunity to appear upset, so he cast his gaze down to his plate, pushing the little food he had left around with his fork. "It was my father." He said quietly, only half lying, his voice slightly bitter as the wound was still fresh. There was a silence as both mortals stared in shock, glancing at each other to ensure they had heard the answer correctly.

"What the _fuck!?_" Tony exclaimed, earning Loki to look up at him, his brows drew together in confusion as to why he even _cared. _He was a stranger, someone he didn't know. Loki could even kill them if he wished to, so why were they treating him so kindly? This was also something unfamiliar to him, something that only came from Thor and his mother. Kindness, care. Something he did not get from his father, but got from mortal strangers.

When Loki did not reply, Tony continued, "Why the hell did he do that!?"

"I was not good enough for him." He looked back down at his plate, attempting to hide his confusion.

Tony's expression softened some, though he did not let the subject drop. Getting a look from Pepper that screamed '_you know how this feels, you should speak to him, try and get him to tell us more." _

"You..." he cleared his throat, not being one to speak of emotions. "You can tell us, you know. Rant, whatever... I've been there. I know what it's like." Placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, he smiled a bit, this being probably the first time he was willing to go through something like this. Normally he wouldn't care, normally he wouldn't involve himself... but this was different. Tony felt like he _had _to get involved, he felt a need to help the guy out, because at the moment he honestly looked completely miserable and _lost, _and god damnit – Tony himself was like that once, he knew what it was like. He knew what it felt like. Perhaps that's why... he knew it hurt, and he didn't like the idea of anybody else going through it. Nobody should ever feel worthless, which he was certain was the case here.

There was a silence as the God thought for a moment, thinking through different outcomes of this situation. There was no way he could lie himself or get himself out of this one, he knew that much. The questions would just keep coming, and so he decided to tell a half truth again, leaving out some details that would reveal he was not from this realm.  
"Back home, I am hardly realised at all, it is almost as if I do not exist, unless I do something of which catches everybody's attention. I live in the shadows, whilst my brother gets all of the glory, all of the love, all of the attention and praise." His tone started turning bitter, but both mortals stayed quiet, listening to Loki's explanation. "All I was trying to do was prove that I was as good as him, as worthy, that I was _his equal. _I did everything in my power – _**everything – **_yet even that was not enough, nothing ever is when it comes to me.  
I explained myself, for once I stood up for myself, and what do I get?" he let out a short, bitter laugh. "I get thrown out of my own home for revealing the truth, for _embarrassing _father with the truth in front of everybody that respects and worships him."

Another silence crept up on the three of them as Loki stopped talking, both Tony and Pepper unsure of what to say.

"So you have no-where to stay?" Tony supplied, desperately wanting to break the silence as he couldn't stand it.

"No."

"Stay here, then." He said casually; mentally face palming as he _didn't even know the guy! _

"I do not even know where 'here' _is." _

"Los Angeles, America, Earth." Tony raised an eyebrow as realisation hit Loki's face. So he was correct in the first place – _Midgard. _He was to stay on Midgard for two years. For _what? What was he supposed to prove to his father? According to his mother, he always did things for a reason... so what was his reason this time around?  
_The God was certain that his father had banned all ways of travelling to Midgard, as his glutton of a brother Thor had not yet shown up. In a way, he was thankful. He needed space away from that oaf, in order to clear his mind.

Pepper gave Tony an unsure look as Loki stayed silent for a while. They could both tell he had spaced out and was currently lost in thought, though they weren't sure whether this was a good or bad thing yet.  
"Loki," Pepper started, the God instantly snapping out of his thoughts, his green eyes averting from his now empty plate to the young woman. "Do you go to school locally, then?"

_School. Something he hadn't been to in hundreds of years. _Shaking his head, Loki replied shortly with a 'no'.

"Why not?"

"I stopped going a while ago," he replied, his silver tongue coming into good use.

"Well," Tony lightly shoved Loki's arm, playfully, a gesture Loki had seen Thor do between his imbecile friends plenty of times. "You can go to school with us! Right, Pepps?"

"Um," Pepper looked unsure, her brows furrowing a bit. "Well, I'm sure we could sort out something... do you know what grade you're in?"

When Loki merely gave her a blank look, Tony laughed. "He's from England, Peppali; he won't understand what a 'grade' is. Especially since he doesn't go to school, being the rebel he is."

"Right, well, we'll have to put him through a test, then. To see what he knows already."

Loki looked more alert upon hearing 'test'. "What kind of test will this be?"

"Well, Loki-Pokey, you get given a test paper with different kinds of questions in it, about a load of different things when you join a new school, so they can see what grade to put you in, what classes and all that."

Loki nodded, fully understanding. He probably wouldn't understand most of the questions on the test, but he was smart. He was a God. Being a mage, he knew that there were ways around everything, including silly mortal tests.

"We'll bring you to school tomorrow, then." Tony declared.

"Hang on, Tony, we have to call them up first and let them know in advance so they can prepare-"

"Yeah, yeah..."

Glancing at both of the mortals bicker, Loki felt a small, amused smile tug at his lips. Perhaps living on Midgard for two meagre years will not be as bad as he originally thought. The mortals he would be staying with were relatively entertaining already and he didn't even know them properly.  
In the two years he would be staying on this realm, Loki would make sure it will be worth his time. He will cause havoc, he will cause mischief. He will enjoy his time away from that glutton's realm and he shall forget of everything that had previously happened to him, as that will only bring him down.

Whilst Loki is on Midgard, he shall start a new life.

* * *

**Peppali = An Indian spice. **

**I'm not even sorry for the one month "hiatus". Shit's been goin' down.**

**I do what I want. **

**3**


End file.
